


Let Me Carry Your Burden

by natsora



Series: The Sword and The Scabbard [6]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anchor Pain, F/F, Hurt later, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Medieval Medical Practise, Whump, bad things happen, dragon slaying, fluff at first, injuries, medical inaccuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22360627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsora/pseuds/natsora
Summary: Paperwork is the worst thing ever invented according to Trev. But when a routine expedition to the Hinterlands, to break the tedium of paperworks turns sour, she revises that sentiment. Dragons. Dragons are the worst thing ever created by the Maker.
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast
Series: The Sword and The Scabbard [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1375087
Comments: 22
Kudos: 71





	1. I’ll See You Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title and chapter titles are taken from [Foy Vance’s Burden](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9OYW4JBWXI).

_Prompt fill for "Be careful what you wish for" - Cassandra Pentaghast and Lexington Trevelyan for Obividalous_

The candle flickered in the chill Frostback air. The words on the parchment danced before Trev’s eyes as if taunting her. She growled wordlessly at them. Fingers pressed against her temples, nails nearly digging into skin. But beyond her skin, inside her skull, her pulse thrummed loud and hard. The headache from the hours long war council had blossomed into something of beauty. 

Trev couldn’t move her eyes without feeling them throb. She sighed and straightened, remembering the countless times Cassandra had reminded her of her posture. 

“It’s half the reason why your shoulders are so stiff,” Cassandra’s voice echoed in her head. 

Even that made her head hurt more. 

But Trev was stubborn when it came to these things. Rolling her shoulders back, she hunkered down. She intended to get through these reports so she could decide if she should approve Cullen’s requests or deny them. There was no way she’ll just blindly sign off on things without knowing what the details were. The Inquisition deserved her time and effort. A little headache wasn’t going to stop her. 

Trev blinked, the light was getting dimmer, making it hard to read. She glanced at the candle to realise it had burnt down to a stub. Wasn’t it at full length just a moment ago? Her eyes stung as she blinked hard. At least she was almost done. Picking up the quill with her left hand, she scrawled her signature over it. With a relief she threw the quill back towards the ink well and missed. She didn’t care. 

“Done!” she gasped as if drowning. “I’m finally done.”

There was the unmistakable shift of a weight from the chaise before the fireplace. A softer annoyed meow came quickly after. “Hush,” a familiar voice admonished the cat. 

Padded paws thumped against the floor and trotted over to Trev. Trouble was a large cat and she huffed as he leapt into her lap. She held him to her chest and pressed her face into his fur. Warm and soft and comforting, everything she needed after spending hours at her desk. 

“I’m glad,” Cassandra said as she stood. “You were at it for a long time.”

“You could have rescued me,” she mock wailed pitifully. 

Cassandra smiled, it’s only a small lift at the corner of her lips. But it made Trev’s grin broadened. “You wanted me to keep Trouble out of your way, remember?”

She chuckled. “I do, but the dragon slayer should still rescue me regardless.”

Cassandra snorted. As she straightened to her full height, Trev’s smile softened. This was all still very new. The nights in her quarters when they weren’t travelling. The warmth pressed against her side as she woke. Seeing Cassandra without her armour, dressed only in a loose shirt and pants, eyes half lidded and voice made husky by sleep. It was a privilege she didn’t think she deserved. 

Trev stood, gently letting Noisy down onto the floor. He wasn’t pleased but instantly turned his attention to the bed. He found his favourite spot — right smack in the middle. Tucking his paws underneath his body, Noisy surveyed his kingdom from his seat of power. 

She stretched, lifting her arms up over her head and twisted. Her spine popped audibly. Cassandra winced. “I hate it when you do that.”

“I wish I didn’t have all these paperwork to do, reports to read,” Trev chuckled. “I wish I can lay in bed all day and wake up next to you. Sleeping in till it’s noon and having breakfast in bed.”

Cassandra ducked her head, embarrassed despite them being alone. But it didn’t stop her taking Trev’s hand and leading her towards the bed. “I don’t know how you could say such things.”

“It’s the truth!”

“I’m sure. That does sounds wonderful but be careful what you wish for, Trev.”

Before she could think to respond, there was a knock on her door. The heavy door at the bottom of the stairs groaned a little as it opened. “Inquisitor,” the guard below called out. “The Ambassador is here to see you.”

“Let her up,” Trev called out, her headache was already roaring to life again. She could guess what she would be receiving in a moment. 

Sure enough, Josephine was balancing a new stack of parchments on her tablet as she navigated the steps. Cassandra unlaced her fingers from Trev’s hand to help. 

“Inquisitor,” Josephine greeted, sounding way more cheery and energetic than was normal at this time of the night. “I have more reports and acquisition slips for your approval. There are also lineage charts of various noble houses for you to peruse at your leisure.”

“You mean memorise,” Trev pointed out flatly, exhaustion creeping back now that Cassandra was out of her grasp. 

“It’s advised that you commit them to memory,” Josephine went on as if Trev didn’t speak. 

As she dumped the new pile onto Trev’s desk, she picked up one of the parchments from Trev’s carefully separated piles. One pile had all signed and approved orders, the other contained reports that she was done reading. 

“I see you got most of it done,” Josephine started piling them into her arms. “I’m sure you get through these just as quickly.”

Trev noted the new pile was even bigger than the old one. She couldn’t help the groan the sight of it pulled through her lips. Cassandra reached over and squeezed her shoulder in sympathy. Josephine chuckled. A sound, Trev was sure, was laced with pleasure if not out right malice. She grimaced. 

“Do I have to get it all done today?” 

Josephine levelled her eyes on her. A board smile widened across her face. “Why Inquisitor, no,” she said. “Whatever gave you the idea?”

Trev sighed in relief. 

“But you do have to get them all done before you head out on the next expedition. I seem to recall you have one planned pretty soon.”

The sigh turned into a groan, this time longer and louder. Even Cassandra chuckled under her breath, muffled only by a hand pressed against her mouth. 

“All right, Josephine. I’ll make sure she puts time aside to get it all done,” Cassandra said. 

Someone was finally taking pity on her, Trev thought. But then her mind told her Cassandra would be a harder taskmaster than Josephine. For one thing, she wouldn’t be able to escape Cassandra. They slept in the same room after all. Trev buried her face into her hands, looking at the pile on her desk was making her head pound harder. The groan wasn’t just exaggeration, she was starting to feel lightheaded. 

“I trust you’ll be able to,” Josephine replied and swiftly swept out of the room with her bounty in her hands. 

Trev didn’t bother looking up. The darkness of her hands was a comfort compared to the sight of the work that awaited her. A hand brushed against her shoulder. “Come on, Trev,” Cassandra said, tugged at one of her hands. “It’s late. It can all wait till tomorrow.”

She allowed her hand to be tug free of her face. “And there goes the entire day tomorrow, and the day after that too, maybe by then I’ll put a dent in this,” she stabbed her finger at it, “pile.”

“You will, I have faith in you.” 

Cassandra guided her to the bed and pressed against her shoulders so that she sat down. Her weight against the mattress shook the bed. Noisy meowed, a sleepy contented sound. Long fingers begin to tug at her leather vest, undoing the buttons that ran down her chest. One by one they came free. With each loosened notch, Trev breathed a little easier. 

“There,” Cassandra said, draping the vest carefully over a chair, before returning to the bed. “Don’t you feel a little better?”

Trev nodded mutely. Her eyes were half lidded when she felt Cassandra’s long fingers touched her shoulders. It was more than a touch. They were deliberate strong pressure pressing into her shoulders. Fingers seeking the ache that hid under her skin. They ran the length of her shoulder before coming back to her neck and repeating the motion. She groaned, this time with pleasure. 

“I know you’re having a headache,” Cassandra said. 

“How?” Trev had her eyes firmly shut now, seeking only to sink into the sensations. 

“You always rub your temples when you have one. And you frown a lot.”

Trev hummed. 

“And you complain a lot more too.”

That made her eyes snapped open. “I do not.”

Cassandra didn’t bother defending her words, instead she pressed against Trev’s shoulders and pushed her onto the bed. Trev let herself fall face forward. The top of her head brushed against Noisy’s paws. And the cat promptly started to groom her. Trev laughed. 

With strong hands kneading her stiff shoulders and back, it didn’t take long before sleep tugged Trev under. “I wish I can lay in bed all day,” she whispered sleepily. 

* * *

It was midday the next day when Trev came bounding towards her all excited. Cassandra narrowed her eyes. There were few things that got Trev this enthusiastic. And they all were dangerous or ill-advised or both. 

“What is it this time?” she asked before Trev caught her breath. “Dragons or pranks?”

Trev blinked. The look of puzzlement threaded through her features in an endearing crinkled brow. “How did you know?”

“How couldn’t I?”

Trev’s face fell a little, the wind going out of her sails. “Bull is organising an expedition to Crestwood.”

“And?” Cassandra prompted, stopped to take a swig from her water skin. 

“And…” the smile was back, like sun rising over the Frostbacks, tentative and faint, but promising to warm her regardless, “there is a dragon there.”

Trev looked at her. Eyes twinkling with anticipation. Cassandra cleared her throat to keep from laughing out loud. She couldn’t give in and encourage this. “And?” she prompted, an eyebrow arching. 

The Inquisitor practically vibrated to keep from bursting at the seams. “He wants to go kill it. He’s bringing the Chargers and Sera and Dorian along.”

“And?”

“Maker, you’re relentless,” Trev growled without fire. “I told him that to neglect bringing the one real dragon hunter we have in Skyhold would be an affront to your name.”

“Mine?”

“Yes! Casper Pentaghast would turn in his grave if he knew.”

“I see you’ve been memorising some irrelevant bits of Nevarran history,” Cassandra pointed out, chuckling. Trev never failed to bring a smile to her face, albeit in ways unexpected but not unwelcome. 

“It’s part of Josephine’s package. She told me I had to know them before we go to Halamshiral. She didn’t say what I had to start with.”

“Well, then. I’m flattered, Inquisitor.”

Trev’s nose wrinkled at the title. But she bore this one better than being the Herald. After all, she had accepted being the Inquisitor. Cassandra sheathed her sword. The dummy had taken enough of a beating today. And she had other tasks to see to, checking in on Cullen for one. 

“That doesn’t explain what’s your part in this. Bull is taking the Chargers, Sera, Dorian,” she listed out on her fingers, “and apparently me. Though I’ve not given my word on this expedition. Where do you come in?”

Trev blinked. Her brown eyes catching the light just right, making them looked practically gold. The Anchor sparked and flared a deep green, always reacting to her emotions. Cassandra’s eyes darted to Trev’s face, looking for the telltale tightening of her brow, or the slight twisting of her lips. There was none of that. So it wasn’t one of those times the Anchor was acting up. Her chest eased at the confirmation. 

“I want to go. I want to go hunt dragons.”

“No.”

“No?” Trev tilted her head, looking like a confused mabari. 

Cassandra’s hand twitched, wishing to reach out and touch Trev’s face. Then she remembered. She could if she wished. Trev wouldn’t mind. They were… together. The thought warmed her in a way she didn’t expect. 

“No,” she repeated, reaching out to put her arm on Trev’s shoulder. 

“Ahh!” Trev tried to pull away. “You’re all sweaty!”

She tightened her grip and it turned into a wrestling match. Trev despite being shorter and smaller, was still a warrior who wielded the sword and shield. Hands gripped arms, they twisted and shifted, both seeking the upper hand. In the end, Trev stretched a leg out behind Cassandra’s and tipped her onto her ass. But Cassandra was determined not to go down alone, she dragged Trev down with her. Trev laughed. A sound so bright and loud, she couldn’t help but join in. 

“There now you’re all sweaty and in need of a bath as much as I am,” Cassandra said. 

“But what about the dragon at Crestwood? Bull wants to head out as soon as we’ve gathered the supplies and—”

“No, Trev. I’m not going,” Trev’s face fell, “and you’re not going.” If possible, Trev’s face fell further. “The dragon has done nobody any harm, has it?”

Trev offered her a hand and pulled her back to her feet after getting up himself, but she didn’t speak. 

“Has it?” Cassandra repeated. “Cause I’ve not read any reports about dragon troubles in Crestwood.”

“No, it hasn’t,” came the soft reply, disappointment dripping from the words. “But…”

“The dragon is fine where it is, it doesn’t need killing. Bull shouldn’t even be organising this hunting party. The Inquisition need him and the Chargers chasing down any remaining Red Templars in Emprise Du Lion. In fact, I believe that’s one of the orders you approved yesterday.”

Trev sighed heavily. She could be stubborn sometimes, sinking her teeth into an idea like a mabari, refusing to let go, but she also recognised when she allowed her excitement to get the better of her. And this was one of those times. “Yeah, I did. Maker, it has completely slipped my mind.” She ran a hand over her face. “I should go tell him. He’ll be disappointed.”

“He’ll live,” Cassandra said, her voice softer, trying to cushion the disappointment now. “You’ll live too.”

Trev trudged away, her shoulders slumped. Cassandra didn’t have the heart to let her go away so sad. “Go tell him and join me in the baths. I can help you wash your hair and back.”

She nodded, a smile creeping back. And that was Trev, she was resilient, never letting something get her down for very long. “I really just wanted to escape those paperwork,” she confessed. 

“I know.”

* * *

And so that idea was a bust. Trev watched with no small amount of envy as Bull rode out with Dorian, Sera and his Chargers. “Watch the fort for us, Boss,” Bull called. 

She folded her arms across her chest and pivoted on her heel to head back inside. There was no need to give Bull satisfaction. 

“We’ll clear out those Red Templars right up, yeah?” Sera’s words chased her back into the keep. 

They were gone for two whole weeks. That’s two weeks Trev was trapped in Skyhold, no chained to her desk, wading through reports after reports, scrolls of information she needed to read, to learn, to put into her mind for a ball that’s still months away. And her mood got increasingly sour that no amount of sparring with Cassandra could leach from her. 

After Bull and his party returned, it only got worse. Herald’s Rest was no longer restful. With Bull and Sera going back and forth about the adventures they had had, it only serve to fuel Trev’s frustration. She was determined to be rid of all her paperwork in as quick a time as possible. No amount of coaxing would pry her from her desk as she worked feverishly. 

“Fine,” Cassandra said. 

“What?” Trev lifted her head and groaned. Her neck was sore and she hadn’t even realised it.

“Fine,” Cassandra repeated. “That’s what I said. You’ve been cooping yourself up here for days. You don’t have to burn yourself out doing this.”

“Maybe so, but I want to be done with this. I want to get out of Skyhold,” she explained, tossing the quill in her hand back into the inkwell. “And apparently I need to do all of this before I can go.”

Cassandra stood from the chaise and carefully slipped a torn piece of parchment into the book to save the page. She crossed the space between them. Her motions were fluid and smooth, no movement was wasted. Trev couldn’t help but smile despite how tired she felt. 

“What about riding out with the hunters tomorrow?” Cassandra offered. 

“But I’ll have to come back again and work on these for the rest of the day.” She pointed out, gesturing at the much diminished pile. “I just want to be done.”

Cassandra sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Stubborn Trevelyans.”

“We’re modest in temper, bold in deed,” her voice pitched lower, mimicking her father’s voice. 

A groan slipped passed Cassandra’s lips. And Trev laughed. She took a sip from her cup of tea and made a face. It was stone cold, but she gulped the rest down anyway. “If there is nothing else, I have to get back to work.”

“No.”

“No?” Trev cocked her head.

“You win,” Cassandra hissed. She pulled a parchment out from the pile Trev hadn’t had time to work on yet and handed it to her. 

Trev’s eyes darted along the words. The more she read, the faster she got. At the end, she looked up at Cassandra hopefully. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

Cassandra groaned and Trev’s smile widened to epic proportions. “That’s a yes isn’t it?”

A sigh, heavy and long suffering, forced it through Cassandra’s lips. Then, Trev frowned. “I’ve got to go talk to Josephine about it. Will she even let me go?”

“I’ve already spoken to her and Cullen and Leliana. They agreed keeping you cooped up here isn’t doing anyone any good, least of all, you.”

Trev stood, unable to contain her excitement. Her exhaustion evaporated in an instant. Arms wide, she wrapped them around Cassandra and lifted her up. Cassandra yelped. It was a surprisingly girlish high pitched one. Trev laughed. “You’re the best!”

“Put me down!”

“No,” Trev started spinning around with Cassandra, a wriggling eel, in her arms. 

* * *

It was two days later that found Trev was tightening the cinches on her mount’s saddle. She cast an experienced eye over her packs. It held everything she needed. Her sleeping roll, some spare shirts and pants, her sharpening stone and oil, dried jerky, a few water skins and various sundry and supplies were secured there. With her blade belted at her hip and her shield on her back, she was all set. 

Trev glanced at the others. Solas and Varric were seeing to their mounts while Cassandra was already mounted and waiting. The Seeker’s eye gleamed on her breastplate. Trev grinned. And Cassandra snorted, an indulgent smile tugging at her mouth. 

“Ready?” she asked. One by one, the others nodded and they’re off. 

Their mission was simple. Indeed, Trev wouldn’t be normally tasked to carry out a mission such as this. But this was a reprieve from paperwork she disliked so much, so she wouldn’t complain. After all, heading down to the Hinterlands to check in with their scouts there and providing aid where it’s needed, was a worth cause. 

The weather was nice enough once they descended from the Frostbacks. Trev was happy to stuff her thick gamebson into her packs. They saw little battle on the way to the Hinterlands. There wasn’t even a bear to fight, but her sprits were high. And nothing could get her down. 

“You know, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Varric said, one day as they gathered around the fire, sharing a meal after stopping for the day. “But this constant cheer is a little creepy if you don’t mind me saying.”

Trev frowned. “What’s wrong with smiling?”

“You’re smiling too much.”

“Dwarf, you complain too much,” Cassandra interjected. 

Varric chuckled and gestured with his spoon. “I know she’s your girlfriend but Seeker I was merely stating my observation.”

“Ugh. You talk too much.”

Trev couldn’t help but reddened. What she and Cassandra had wasn’t a secret but it felt private, something to be kept close to her chest. But at the same time, she wanted to climb up the tallest tree and screamed it to the world. It’s a complicated feeling. 

“I don’t see what’s wrong with being happy,” Trev said.

“I’m not saying there is a problem. You just look exceptionally happy.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” she smirked. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” Varric agreed. “Just creepy.”

Trev laughed. 

They made good time. It wasn’t long before they found the scouts. There wasn’t very much to report beyond the refugees who were still streaming in were in need of supplies. So they set about hunting rams for meat and hide, clearing out wolves’ dens and even rounding up stray farm animals. But it was all good clean work, work that Trev found incredibly satisfying. But very soon, there was no more work to be done. 

“We’re leaving for Skyhold tomorrow,” she announced to the others. 

“Finally,” Varric said. “I’m ready for a proper bed. I have so much writing to get done.”

Solas nodded and stood. “I shall take the chance to convene with the sprits here while we’re still here. I have much still to explore.” He didn’t wait for a response and immediately set out towards the forrest. 

Trev watched him go. Then, she felt a pressure on her shoulder, a familiar one. She reached up to cover the hand with hers, pressing her check against it. “Are you ready to go back to Skyhold?”

They were only in the Hinterlands for but a week. This was among the shortest expedition she had been on. “I doubt I’ll ever be ready knowing what’s waiting for me back at Skyhold,” she sighed. “But I’ve got to go back eventually right?”

“It is unavoidable.” Cassandra chuckled, tugging on her arm, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, let’s get an early night. We have a long way to travel tomorrow.”

Trev sighed and followed Cassandra into the tent they shared. Undressing and stripping down to a mere loose shirt and pants, not bothering with breast bands, they slipping into their bed rolls. Arms curling around bodies, legs tangling with legs. It didn’t take long before their breathing synced up, and sleep claimed them. 

* * *

Trev bit into her apple, standing next to her mount. Her packs were all secured. She was waiting on the others when her mare nudged her. She grunted and scratched at its chin. Taking one more bite, Trev offered the rest to her. The apple was swiftly demolished between big flat teeth. 

The sky was dim, light still grey. Trev took a deep breath, the chill morning air stung her nostrils. She’d miss all this. Despite the less than comfortable accommodations, the lack of privacy and the backbreaking work they did all day, it felt good. Their work here was tangible. It didn’t matter how small the tasks were, she could see the impact they had immediately. Sitting comfortably at Skyhold, wielding a quill over parchment wasn’t the same. Josephine told her she had influence over kingdoms and lands. But it didn’t feel that way. Signed a parchment here, soldiers marched there. But what happened? She wouldn’t know what one simple signature wrought till weeks or months later. This, was much better. 

But Skyhold awaited, her duty called.

Varric drained his cup of bitter brown bean water Orlesians love so much. Solas was securing his staff to his mount while Cassandra approached. “Ready?” she asked. 

Trev nodded. The trip had been good. It reminded her why she was doing what she was doing. It wasn’t all parchments and quills, ordering the growing Inquisition army about like they were toy soldiers, sending spies and assassins to wreck havoc like it was all play. This was real, and it all had concrete effects. 

“Let’s go,” she replied, turning to mount up. 

As their mounts eased their way out of the camp, Solas straightened and tightened his grip on his staff, ready to pull it free. “Someone’s coming, riding hard.”

Seconds after he said so, Trev could pick up the rhythmic thumps of hooves on dirt. “Inquisitor!” It was one of the scouts. Anxiety was written all over her face. 

“What is it?”

“Dragon!”

Trev’s heart lurched. 

“It’s ravaging the Crossroads,” the scout went on breathlessly. 

Trev didn’t bother to consider any other alternative. The words were out of her mouth before she put thought behind them. “Take me there.”

Heels dug into against her mount’s sides, she rode. Leaving the others to follow in her wake. 

They arrived to a scene of utter chaos. Smoke and flames filled the sky, screams of pain and panic rang out. Then, the roar came. All eyes were drawn skywards. 

Trev froze, crumbling mountain snow banks filled her eyes, the roar of it rushing towards her erased the chaos before her. For a split second another dragon screamed within the confines of her mind. Her chest clenched so tight, it hurt. Then something hard and cold brushed against her cheek. Trev’s head snapped to its source only to find Cassandra looking at her. Concern and worry clouding her eyes. Cassandra withdrew her gauntlet from Trev’s face to grip her reins. “Are you all right?”

Trev could only nod mutedly before shaking her head to clear it. Taking a deep breath, she turned to realise the rest of the scouts had accompanied them as well. They were all looking at her for directions. Her eyes flickered to Cassandra for a moment, taking in the clear confidence she had in her before squaring her shoulders. Orders flew and the scouts took off, rushing to aid the villagers. 

“What about us?” Solas asked. “Shouldn’t we go as well?”

Trev was tracking the dragon’s flight with her eyes. She shook her head. “No, we will kill a dragon.”

* * *

Varric’s chuckles filled Cassandra’s head as they rode. “I see you got your wish after all.”

Her eyes flickered on their own accord to Trev. Trev’s brown eyes were focused on the dragon. For a while it didn’t look like Trev was going to reply. However, her lips tugged upwards in what most would think was a smirk but what Cassandra saw was a grimace. And her heart lurched in response. 

“A dragon to slay,” Trev replied easily, “what’s not to like?” 

“I like not getting trampled for one thing,” Varric retorted. 

“You won’t be. You will be firing that crossbow of yours from that bluff there, with Solas. It’s Cassandra and I that have to worry about being trampled.”

No more words were exchanged as they rode. Cassandra knew the silence was more than Trev trying to focus, she was also trying to keep her fear in check. She recognised what happened to Trev earlier. Fear was clear on Trev’s face then, locked in memories she couldn’t shake free. Cassandra could guess the worst of Haven was playing back in Trev’s mind. It would be foolish to expect her to crawl out of the rubble of Haven unscathed. 

Cassandra’s fingers remembered how those red puckered scars that ran over Trev’s abdomen felt like. Haven had almost took her life. 

She glanced at Trev again. She had her hand on her ear again. The notched one, the one that the cold had took a piece of her from. Trev was worried. And she was right to be. 

Dragon slaying was what the Pentaghasts were known for, she was a Pentaghast and had slain a few dragons herself. This was where she should take charge. Trev was still shaken up by those tainted memories. 

A boom yanked her thoughts away. Head lifted, eyes seeking, she saw the dragon had landed on a bluff not far away. Its roar echoed down at them. The dragon was done running, it was time to fight. 

* * *

Pain seared across Cassandra’s ribs as the landing forced air out of her chest. For one brief moment, she couldn’t breathe, her lungs fluttered helplessly behind her ribs as her pulse throbbed loudly in her ears. Her vision went white even behind squeezed shut eyes. 

“Cassandra!” Trev’s voice, loud and worried, rang out. 

She couldn’t find the breath to even lie that she’s fine. It was all she could do to keep breathing. Fingers dug around the side of her breast plate, seeking the straps to free herself from the vice that’s crushing the life out of her. She tugged and tugged. Metal groaned and dug deeper and harder. Tears filled her eyes when finally she heard another voice. This one closer than Trev’s. 

“Seeker, let me!” 

Varric. There was a quick jerk. The breast plate seemed to tighten around her chest for a split second and she gasped. Head sagging back to the ground, the fight leaking out of her. Then, it came free. 

Air never tasted this good as she dragged lungful after lungful into her chest. Eyes opening, she sought out Trev’s form. In the distance, blade held high, shield against her chest, Trev roared her anger and fear at the dragon. The sun had risen now, bright and strong. With each stroke, light caught the metal. Trev looked like she was an angel of fire. 

Cool numbness spread across her chest as hands were held over her. Cassandra recognised Solas’s healing. “Your ribs are bruised, but I think they are not broken,” he said. She sighed, relaxing a little, not really listening. 

She couldn’t peel her eyes from Trev. Her breath hitched as she watched the dragon raked its claws over Trev’s shield, over and over again. Each blow forced Trev backwards. The metal groaned and screeched, but it held. Cassandra knew the force a dragon of this size could wield. Trev weathered them all.

Then it struck her, if Varric and Solas were with her, nobody was watching Trev’s back. “Varric,” she rasped hoarsely, her arm barely able to lift an inch from the ground. 

“Please, Seeker, just relax. You’re not making my job any easier,” Solas scolded. 

Varric sighed. “I know, I know. I’m going to watch your girlfriend’s back all right? Just relax, you gave us all quite a fright.”

The dwarf got to his feet and trotted towards Trev, sending his powerful crossbow bolts at the dragon as he neared. Trev turned her head slightly, the sun catching her armour. And even from the distance Cassandra could see blood coating them. She couldn’t help but stiffened. Instincts screaming at her to rise and help. But Solas pressed her back to the ground. 

Trev’s voice muffled but raised as she issued orders. The lines of her shoulders were stiff but it relaxed a notch after speaking to Varric. She turned her attention back towards the dragon and charged in. 

It felt like hours but it must have been mere minutes. Trev stuck the killing blow and the dragon gave a pitiful groan before slumping to the ground. Cassandra would have felt more sympathy for the dragon if it hadn’t razed the Crossroads to the ground. 

“All right, Seeker,” Solas said, the glow dissipating. “Please sit up slowly.”

The pain was all gone, leaving her only a soreness in her muscles as if she had been training all day. Cassandra ducked her head. “Thank you.”

She eased herself to her feet and looked at her breastplate. It was completely bent in the wrong way. If Varric wasn’t near, she didn’t think she’ll be able to free herself from it. Solas nodded and sighed, “Let’s hope the Inquisitor wouldn’t be difficult about me healing her injuries.”

Cassandra followed, walking slower than she usually did. The sword at her hip seemed to have doubled its weight. Trev was panting as she stood next to the dragon. She lifted her head and their eyes met. Trev’s face lit up instantly, a grin spread her lips as she approached. But it was quickly buried under concern as her brown eyes flickered over her armour. 

“Are you all right?” Trev asked, closing the distance between them as quickly as she could, her blood coated blade still grasped in her hand. 

Cassandra frowned, noticing a shift along the dragon’s spine. Maybe she had imagined it, maybe it was a trick of the light. Her gaze sharpened as she stared at the fallen dragon, noting its colouration and size. It’s a Fereldan Frostback, her mind tossed at her. Then she gasped, remembering that they were notoriously tricky dragons. Trev wouldn’t know that, this was the first dragon she had fought. Eyes widened, a call for Trev to run at the back of her throat. The twitch along the dragon’s spine was no trick of the eye. Thick scaly eyelids peeled back to reveal gleaming eyes. 

Time slowed. Cassandra could do nothing but watch. 

Trev turned, seemingly feeling the eyes of the dragon on her. Her shield pulled up towards her chest as her blade rose in a feeble attempt to block what was coming. Golden yellow scales, muscle clad the length of its body, the Fereldan Frostback spun with the last of its strength. Its tail whipped out like a snake, seeking vengeance. 

Then, everything sped up. 

The tail slammed into Trev. Did she get the shield up in time? Did it matter? She was tossed like a rag doll. Over rocks and dirt, she tumbled before sliding to a halt a good five yards away. There was no time to lose. Cassandra unsheathed her sword, her blade screamed for blood as it was slid from its scabbard. Solas and Varric joined her, magic sizzling over her head and the solid thonk of Varric’s crossbow echoed in her ears. 

* * *

Everything was fuzzy and far away. Her eyelids weighed a ton, but Trev forced them open. It was a mistake. Light pierced her eyes. She groaned, attempting to escape the stab to the back of her mind. Voices echoed around her as hands held her still. 

“Trev, can you hear me?” 

That’s Cassandra. She sounded worried, no more than worried, she was afraid. Trev would try for her. She peeled her eyes open again. Solas’ face was upside down, looming over her, his hands held her. Cassandra hovered anxiously. It was Cassandra’s hands she felt holding hers. Then a glow filled her vision, blocking out Cassandra’s face. She stiffened and pain shot through her body. 

_I’m hurt._

Pain of a sort she hadn’t felt before ripped through her. It’s deep, burrowing into her bones, threatening to undo her. Trev called out or at least she tried to, but she hadn’t had the breath to. Pain had stolen that from her. 

“I’m here, I’m here,” Cassandra soothed, running her bare hands over with her own. 

_What happened to my armour?_

Solas sighed deeply as the glow disappeared, bringing Cassandra back to view. Trev’s heart eased a notch. She wanted to smile, she wanted to tell Cassandra everything would be ok. But holding onto consciousness was hard, a fissure had opened up in her chest, ripping everything up in its wake, taking her strength with it. Fingers twitched in a vain attempt to grip Cassandra’s hands, but her eyelids sagged shut. Everything slipped away. 

* * *

The second time Trev came to everything was rocking and shaking. Motion sent lightning up and down her spine but most of all, her head throbbed. Her pulse was loud in her ears. But she wasn’t lying down, instead she was seated, her face pressed against something warm. There was a familiar scent about the warmth, sword oil and a faint hint of cedar.

_Cassandra?_

Thinking was impossible with the pounding between her ears. She sighed. Her breath was fogging with each one she took. It was cold. But something heavy and thick was settled around her shoulders, keeping the chill at bay. 

She blinked, fighting the fog in her mind. Fingers shifting to push herself to sit upright but she found she couldn’t. Something rough and tight had clinched her against Cassandra. 

“Trev?”

She grunted, unable to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. 

“Chuckles, she’s awake,” Varric called from the other side. She didn’t dare turn her head, she didn’t think she’ll be able to. 

“Trev, don’t move,” Cassandra said. 

It was odd to hear with Cassandra’s voice with one ear but feel the vibrations of the same voice coming through her back as well. Trev didn’t reply and just leaned her entire weight against Cassandra’s back, eyes sagging shut again. The motions slowed to a stop as Solas came over. The glow filled her eyes again, she could feel the steady inhale and exhale of Cassandra’s breath, the steady throb of her heart. Trev took comfort in them as darkness dragged she under again.

* * *

The third time was the charm as the saying went. But it was the worst of all. Trev cried out. Eyes snapping open as fire lit up her nerves, searing and burning everything in sight. She shuddered and shook as hands tugged and pulled, this way and that. 

  
“Stop, hurts, please stop,” she begged, her eyes opened but not seeing anything beyond blurry dark figures. 

“Slowly! You’re hurting her!” Cassandra snapped. 

Trev’s hand reached out towards the voice, seeking but not finding. But the motions slowed. She was upright for a moment and then she was slipping off. Gasping as panic set in, she stiffened. 

“Trev, Trev, it’s all right, just relax. We’re at Skyhold now,” Cassandra said, her voice comfortingly close as her hand closed around hers. 

And with permission given, she sank back into the sea of darkness. 

* * *

The fourth time, this time she’d stay awake longer than a few minutes. She must. 

Trev sighed. Her eyes opening on their own accord. Vision clearing, she found herself looking at a familiar ceiling. Grey stones rising up above her as far as the eye could see. She blinked. 

“I’m back.” The words whispered, they lingered in the air like a breath long held now released. 

The pain was still here, but they were muted as if Trev had been dosed with the strongest healing potions available. She didn’t move, afraid that moving would wake them all. She settled for testing her fingers and toes, wriggling them slowly. They all moved on command. Next her ankles and wrists, her knees and elbows, those were sore but no worse than what she had experienced after a long day of sparring and training. 

Then she turned to turn her neck, that went things felt wrong. Her neck moved fine, but her head started to throb. She could feel the heavy bandage wrapped around her head and the swelling underneath it. Taking a deep breath, she felt a tightness across her chest. A curious hand pushed the covers off and a rush of cold mountain air rushed in to take its place. Goosebumps beaded across her skin. She was not wearing any shirt, bandages had taken its place. 

_What happened exactly?_

Her memory was fuzzy, by trauma or potions she couldn’t say. Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to relax. But pain once woken refused to leave, an unwelcome guest that was never invited. A tormented whimper pushed past her lips. A weight settled up on the bed, a deep purring started up. Noisy approached. Ginger paw by paw, he walked up to her, chirping a greeting before settling down by her hand, nuzzling it. Trev ran her hand over his thick white coat. She couldn’t say how long it took but eventually sleep, not unconsciousness pulled her away. 

* * *

“I’m sorry.” The voice whispered as gentle hands brushed against her cheek. “I’m sorry. Maker please deliver this child of light from pain to healing.”

Trev would lay there and enjoy Cassandra’s voice, her touch if she could. But the tightness in her voice spoke of worry, Trev couldn’t let Cassandra worry so. She gasped, a small sound of discomfort and opened her eyes. A familiar face was looking down upon her, brow tight with anxiety and an overwhelming guilt. 

“Hey,” she rasped, her mouth and throat dry from disuse, reaching up to hold Cassandra’s hand, only to abort the action when it tugged against her chest. 

“Hush, Trev. You must rest,” Cassandra took her hand and lay it back down onto the bed. But she didn’t let go. 

Trev squeezed it as hard as she could. “I’m ok. It’s just worse than it looks,” she said, chuckling. 

Cassandra shook her head, a stern twist of the lips took hold before it was chased away by more guilt. “It’s not ok, Trev. You…” she gulped visibly. “You were badly hurt. The dragon has thrown you, you were bleeding from your head, your ribs were fractured.”

She rubbed her finger over Cassandra’s hand, gripping her hand so tight it must have hurt her. But Cassandra went on and on, listing all the things that were wrong, all the ways she could have prevented it, and how it was her fault though it simply was not true. This wasn’t Cassandra’s fault, it was the dragon’s and she told her so. 

Cassandra looked at her and sighed, somehow remaining unconvinced in the face of pure logic and the explanation from the apparent wronged party. She unlaced her fingers from Trev’s and stood. Trev couldn’t help the whine that came from her throat. 

“Hush, I’m just going to get water for you,” she explained. 

Trev nodded and closed her eyes. The warm spot Cassandra had vacated was immediately taken over by Noisy. He purred as she ran her fingers over his back.

A few moments later, footsteps returned. “Trev?” Cassandra’s voice quiet and hushed. “Are you sleeping?”

Trev grunted in response, peeling her eyes open. A cup of water sat waiting for her on a bedside table. She took a deep breath as Cassandra slid her strong arms under her back and thighs. 

“Ready?”

She set her jaw and nodded. With her hands pushing at the bed and Cassandra shifting her weight, it went as well as could be expected. Pain once far away came roaring to life. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched shut, she pressed her face into Cassandra’s chest. Cold sweat beaded across her forehead from those mere seconds of effort. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” an endless litany of spilled from Cassandra’s lips. 

As soon as Trev caught her breath, she pressed a hand against Cassandra’s lips. “Stop. Not your fault.”

Cassandra didn’t reply, opting to pick up the cup and ease it to her lips. Trev drank greedily, quenching the soreness in her throat. 

“Are you cold? Do you think you can stomach some food? Or would you rather drink your healing potions? Maybe an extra blanket is in order?” she straightened, turning to Noisy. “Keep your mistress company while I go get some food.”

As she turned away, Trev reached out and wrapped her fingers around hers. All it took was a slight tug to keep Cassandra still, Trev didn’t think she could manage more than that. “Stop,” her voice stronger this time and patted the unoccupied side of the bed. 

Cassandra looked at her, not moving but not going either. Trev smiled as best as her swollen face could manage. “Please?” She grunted as she twitched the covers open and patted the bed again. 

A huff and Cassandra slid into the bed, pressing up against her. An arm coming around to wrap Trev’s shoulder, she sighed. Trev held onto Cassandra’s hand, an anchor to keep her near. But Cassandra’s arm was stiff, her muscles tense. She wasn’t relaxing in the slightest bit. 

“Not your fault,” Trev said. 

“But—”

“Not your fault.” 

A half growl came from the back of Cassandra’s throat, obviously not agreeing. 

“It’s going to be a lengthy recovery given the extent of your injuries,” Cassandra said in an attempt to change the subject. “A lot of bed rest, a lot of sleeping and a lot of potions to drink.”

Trev frowned. “That bad?”

“Yes, you were thrown quite a distance by the dragon.”

“I guess I can now say I’ve rode on a dragon’s tail?”

Cassandra snorted disapproval dripping. It was the first sound of anything remotely guilt free from her. Trev’s smile broadened. 

“I’ll prefer you not ride them anymore them.” Tracing a finger over Trev’s jaw, she sighed again. 

Trev closed her eyes, lulled to sleep by Cassandra’s presence and the fog of pain. “I guess I should be careful what I wish for.”


	2. Fire That Washes Away Your Stain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trev was jerking, muscles stiff, neck twisted to one side at an angle so acute it must hurt. Eyes half lidded had rolled to the back of her head as her arms jerked and swung in rigid motions. The veins along Trev’s neck bulged and pulsed, standing out all the more obvious under bruised skin. Saliva seeped through her tight jaw and the stench of urine filled the air. 
> 
> But most horrifying was the sound. The guttural scream that erupted from her mouth pierced Cassandra’s heart. It was a sound of suffering, of distress and of pure and utter pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Prompt fill for Seizures - Cassandra Pentaghast and Lexington Trevelyan for secrettheoristofwhump_
> 
> Commission art in the chapter by [Xla-hainex](https://xla-hainex.tumblr.com/). If you want to read the little write up I’ve written that went with the art you can find it [here](https://natsora.tumblr.com/post/187435582044/lexington-trevelyan-art-by-xla-hainex-it-is).

The world was shaking. 

Cassandra’s eyes snapped open instantly. Her body tensed and coiled as she jerked upright. The sun hung low in the sky, bathing the room in a splash of orange and yellow. She had crawled into bed with Trev earlier when she woke. Did she fell asleep?

Something shook again next to her. And a yowl rang out. Noisy leapt off the bed and darted away. Cassandra gasped at the sight before her. 

Trev was jerking, muscles stiff, neck twisted to one side at an angle so acute it must hurt. Eyes half lidded had rolled to the back of her head as her arms jerked and swung in rigid motions. The veins along Trev’s neck bulged and pulsed, standing out all the more obvious under bruised skin. Saliva seeped through her tight jaw and the stench of urine filled the air. 

But most horrifying was the sound. The guttural scream that erupted from her mouth pierced Cassandra’s heart. It was a sound of suffering, of distress and of pure and utter pain. 

Cassandra wrapped her arms around Trev’s body tightly, hoping to still her, hoping to calm her, hoping to keep her from hurting herself further. The guilt she wore around her neck like an anchor had migrated to her chest, heavy and unmovable. This was what her carelessness had wrought. If she hadn’t been caught by the dragon’s blow, if Solas hadn’t had to use his powers on her, if she had been faster in warning Trev. 

_If only, if only, if only._

“Don’t hold her!” A voice rang out. 

Cassandra jerked her head around and saw Cole at the foot of their bed. 

“Don’t hold her! Hurts worse.”

She flinched away before she could think, anxiety overriding everything. 

“Trev,” she called. A helpless cry of plea as she clenched her fists to her side, kneeling next to her lover. 

Sitting on the bed, watching was the worst thing Cassandra had to do in a long time. Tears welled up in her eyes as Trev jerked and seized. Thankfully she had stopped making the sound, but every second Trev was stuck in whatever this was, her chest tightened a notch, squeezing air out of her lungs. 

It struck her. She shouldn’t be sitting here when Trev needed help. Pushing off the bed, she took one more backward glance at Trev before rushing towards the door. But before she could run down the steps, the door at the bottom groaned opened. 

Solas came running up, taking the steps two at a time. “Where is she?” was the first breathless question out of his mouth. 

“On the bed.”

He brushed passed her hurriedly. By the time Cassandra rounded the bed, Trev had quietened down, no longer twitching and jerking. Noisy had reclaimed his spot next to Trev, nuzzling and pressing his head against her limp hand. Cole knelt on the floor whispering soothing words to Trev as her pain glazed eyes stared sightlessly at the stone ceiling. Solas, heedless of the mess Trev had made, sat cross legged with his hands held out. One hand hovered over her head, another over her ribs. 

Cassandra stood apart, afraid. But just as quickly angry at herself for feeling this way. This was Trev, Trev needed her. But it was Cole who stopped her from hurting Trev. It was Cole who brought Solas to help. 

It felt like an eternity before Solas sighed and the glow faded. Trev’s eyes were closed now and her breathing was stable once more. 

“What happened?” 

He gingerly eased himself off the bed as Cole brushed Trev’s sweat soaked hair from her face. Taking a breath to steady himself, Solas said, “It’s a seizure. I was afraid this would happen.”

“You were expecting this?”

“Her head wound was more serious than I initially thought,” Solas went on as he straightened, tugging on his tunic. 

His gaze worried and concerned but yet… there was a hint of something else there. Anger? Irritation? Cassandra tightened her jaw. “I thought she was healing well.”

“She is. Her rib fractures are mostly healed up. They may be sore and tender for a few weeks but with rest and healing potions she will recover completely,” any hint of annoyance gone, he went on. “But she took a heavy blow to her head when she landed from the dragon’s strike. I fear something might be damaged inside.”

“What does that mean?” Worry gnawed at her guts, making her stomach hurt. Cassandra had seen soldiers with bad head injuries. Mercifully they died quickly, they didn’t wake and recover consciousness for long, if at all. She had not seen anyone suffered what Trev had. A seizure was a terrible thing. “Is she in pain when she… seized?”

“I don’t know if she felt pain, but in my years of travel and research, I’ve only heard of these seizures after a significant head injury.” Solas shook his head. “What I do know is she had no awareness of what happened when she was seizing. And usually when she comes out of it she’s confused and tired and she needs to rest after.”

Cassandra nodded, eyes darting over to Trev. Cole was nowhere to be seen, only Noisy remained at her side. Her chest eased a notch at the knowledge that Trev wasn’t trapped in a body with muscles all clenched stiff. 

“Is there a cure? Potions to brew, magic to help?”

Solas didn’t speak, he glanced at Trev for a long moment. The clear stench of urine was filling the room. “I know of no cure. The… books I’ve consulted were from ages past and their treatment involved blood magic of some kind.” Cassandra stiffened, a frown deepened between her brow. “But,” he held a hand up to forestall her words. “I will attempt no such treatment. I will do my best to make her comfortable while I consult with the others.”

He turned to go but as he lingered at the bottom of the stairwell, his voice drifted up. “Seeker,” he called out, his voice even and calm, unlike the pounding of her heart against her rib cage. “Know this. These seizures will continue to happen. Steel your heart for them.”

With that the apostate swept out, leaving her standing in the room alone helplessly angry and angrily helpless. 

* * *

Consciousness returned slowly. Trev could feel the chill air across her bare skin as she peeled her eyes opened. A steady spike hammering inside her head made her sick. It started from the back of her eyes, going around the crown of her head, terminating at the base of her skull. She groaned as she pulled an arm over her eyes. 

“Trev?” Cassandra’s voice was raspy with exhaustion. “How are you feelings?”

It was impossible to put into words how she felt other than being stomped on by a dragon and kicked down the Frostbacks. But beyond that, her mind felt clouded. It could have been the headache that made her feel this way, but Trev had a niggering feeling that it wasn’t so. The headache must be the cause right?

“Trev, can you hear me?” Cassandra called louder this time, a hand tightened around her arm. 

She blinked. Anxiety was etched into the planes of Cassandra’s face. Her desire to hold Cassandra, to reassure her lover was strong, but she couldn’t find the energy to do more than nod. 

They had been here before. This wasn’t the first time she seized. The aftermath of that first seizure flashed into her mind with an intensity of a thousand suns. The shame, the tears, the guilt, the anger were waves that crashed against the tiny boat she clung onto in a roiling stormy sea. It threatened to drag her down into the depths. Cassandra was that boat, the anchor that weathered her storm of anger and tears. As much as Trev wanted to hide away, from the shame of soiling herself, and having Cassandra not just witnessing it but cleaning up after her, Trev couldn’t let her go. She needed Cassandra to keep her afloat.

“Trev, come back to me,” Cassandra of the present coaxed, a soothing hand rubbing her shoulders drawing her back to herself. 

“Sorry,” Trev managed to push past her lips as she lifted her eyes to hold Cassandra’s gaze. “I was… The thoughts were…”

“I know, I understand, Trev,” she replied, guilt swimming in those brown tourmaline eyes as she pressed her lips against Trev’s forehead. 

“Did I?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? I always—”

“You did not make a mess, Trev. And even if you did, it’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

What was left unspoken hovered between them like a specter that refused to leave. Cassandra felt that this was all her doing and no amount of persuasion from Trev would move her from that position. 

It had been weeks since her injury, the swelling around her face and head had done down. Bandages around her head and chest weren’t needed any longer. But the seizures persisted. They struck randomly but thankfully, she never suffered more than bruises from falling. Cassandra almost never left her side now. 

It was galling to need so much help. To fall, to seize was one thing, but to lose so much control she’d wet herself, was humiliating. Cassandra hadn’t signed up for this, to care for a woman no longer in control of the most basic of things. 

Cassandra shifted from the bed as Trev sat up. She returned with a familiar bottle. It’s a concoction that Solas and the healers had brewed up. It’s supposed to help prevent more seizures but for all that she’s been drinking it, she didn’t think it worked. 

Trev took the bottle from Cassandra. Their eyes met. She didn’t even need to give voice to her question. “Yes you must. Please,” Cassandra said, “for me.”

It was unfair for Cassandra to leverage the soft spot in Trev’s heart for her this way. But there was nothing Trev wouldn’t do to make Cassandra feel better. If only there was a potion for her to drink to stop Cassandra from feeling guilty. She tipped the bottle back and drained it, making a face at the bitter taste. 

Pressing a hand against her lips, she thrust the bottle at Cassandra. She had to hold her breath as she swallowed. The first time she drank it, she made the mistake of breathing and it all came up again despite her eagerness to rid herself of seizures. She knew better now. 

“Time to get back to work,” Trev said, pulling the covers away and standing, despite the aching and protesting muscles. 

“Trev, you should rest. Every time after a seizure, you’ll be—”

“Stop.” Her voice hard and sharp. 

Cassandra flinched. Eyes jerking up to meet hers. Trev winced and ducked her head, surprised to the Anchor flaring. Taking a deep breath, she kept her eyes on the ground. “I don’t want to be an invalid, if this is…” Her breath shuddering through her lungs. “If this is what it will be, I must learn, I must adapt. I can’t keep lying in bed because of what happens to me for a few minutes out of my day every single time. I want to work, I want to be useful. I am still the Inquisitor.”

“No!”

It was Trev’s turn to flinch at the intensity Cassandra packed into a single word. 

“No,” Cassandra repeated, this time softer but no less commanding. “This is not going to be your new normal. I won’t let it. Solas is consulting with the other healers, Josephine is putting word out for help, Leliana is getting her people to seek learned people on the subject. And we can—”

“We can’t, Cassandra. I can’t,” Trev shouted. A lump was rapidly forming in her throat. This was an argument they had skirted around for weeks. Everything she had an episode, she slid one step closer to despair. And today, she was standing knee deep in it. “How long will we try? How long will we keep the rest of Thedas unaware that the person they were counting on to defeat Corypheus is broken? How long will we keep pretending that it will all be all right?”

“For as long as it takes, Trev. The Maker will see us through this.” Cassandra approached, the bottle still in one hand as she reached out. 

“The Maker failed us,” Trev growled, words flung carelessly like darts. “The Maker failed me.”

Cassandra’s hand faltered and eventually it fell back to her side, defeated. Her chest heaved as she trained her eyes on Trev, her gaze stricken and sad. Trev squeezed her eyes shut unable to bear Cassandra’s gaze, sinking back onto her bed, all her energy was spent. Face buried into her hands, she bit into her hand to keep from sobbing out loud. 

Nothing moved in the room, not even the air. Everything was froze and still, locked in that terrible moment. Trev wished she could take back her words, not because she didn’t think it was true, but for the hurt it had caused. But she was tired, so exhausted. The Anchor flared painfully and she bit down harder on her hand. She tasted iron. 

Then a warm hand pressed against her shoulder gently. The pressure was solid, firm and steady till it’s not. “The Maker didn’t fail you, I did.” And then Cassandra was gone. 

* * *

Cassandra watched Trev drained the new potion. Her lips twisted as she coughed. The taste must have been no better. The weight against her chest got no relief despite the new hope of another potion to try. But it had been the fifth or was it the sixth one in as many weeks. 

  
The dark rings around Trev’s eyes was darker, her collarbone jutted through her sallow skin more than before. Bruises stood prominent against her left arm and cheek from the fall just yesterday. Cassandra had been too slow to shift the chair out of the way, too far away to catch Trev. Her eyes darted away. They hadn’t spoke about the argument after that day. 

As hard it was to be around Trev, a living reminder of what she had failed to do, Cassandra couldn’t stay away. Guilt and responsibility as well as love and affection held her close. She was a fixer, but Trev’s problems weren’t something she could do anything about. This only further frustrated her. So she did what she could, taking care of Trev’s needs as best she could. 

Trev didn’t eat as much as she used to. The way her ribs showed was worrying. She worked as much as she was able to, insisting on doing the paperwork she hated so much, clinging onto it now like a lifeline when she should rest. It’s something that kept her occupied. Useful, Trev’s words, not hers. 

But most of all, Trev cried. She did it quietly in the dead of the night. Body shuddering but not in the way of a seizure. Cassandra had come to be able to tell the difference. Tiny sobs, muffled by her hand, came from Trev’s side of the bed. She listened, never moving, unwilling to break the illusion for Trev. But the signs were clear the next day, the teeth marks on Trev’s hand, the puffy eyes she woke with. Cassandra wouldn’t ask, if Trev wouldn’t speak of it. 

Trev’s mood didn’t improve even when friends came to visit. Varric’s jokes would make her laugh and smile but it never reached her eyes. Dorian would sweep in and out of their room whenever it was convenient with books for her. Sera came with stories of pranks. Blackwall sent toys up. Even Vivienne had offered to trim Trev’s hair, which Trev had refused. 

Nothing helped, not the potions, not their friends, not even her prayers. 

_Maybe Trev is right._

The thought tasted bitter. And Cassandra shied away from it, unwilling to give up quite so quickly. 

_If you are the one suffering the seizures, your body no longer under your control, won’t you despair too?_

Cassandra watched as Trev dragged the blanket from the bed and tugged it around her shoulders. She sat at the desk, picked her quill up and started working. 

_I would. It’s only natural to. But this is exactly why I must fight for her when she can’t._

The rustle of parchment unrolling, the scratch of a quill across it and a deep sigh from Trev pulled her attention. Cassandra started to build the fire up despite it being noon. 

“Thank you,” Trev whispered, half turning towards her.

In the quiet room, it carried. Cassandra completed her task and turned only to see Trev’s back facing her. The scratching of the quill continued. 

_What if that’s what she wants? Trev wants to get on with her life and not fight a battle that cannot be won._

Cassandra made a noise of frustration. Her thoughts were too messy to figure this out. But asking Trev was just… too hard. So she hadn’t dared leave Trev’s side for more than ten minutes at a time, long enough to retrieve food from the kitchens, long enough to confer with Solas or the healers. 

“I think you should go train,” Trev said. 

She stilled, eyes boring into Trev’s back. _Am I being dismissed? Is this where we end? She has finally realise that her life has been ruined by me?_

“You haven’t had the time to train since…” Trev’s words trailed off, she took a breath before going on, “since my accident. I think it will do you some good.” She turned to face Cassandra. There was no anger, no frustration, just a weariness that no amount of bed rest could ease. “You know, to return to some kind of routine. You can’t keep hanging around and watch me work.”

“I…”

“I think training would make you feel better.”

It was a dismissal. There was no doubt about it. Cassandra wouldn’t impose her presence if it wasn’t desired. The heaviness in her chest made it hard to leave. Scenarios upon scenarios of how Trev would hurt herself if she suffered an episode while nobody was around to care for her assaulted her mind. Her legs dragged her to the steps. But she hesitated. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Shall I see you tonight?”

The scratching of Trev’s quill faltered and stopped. “Yes, Cassandra. We shall have our meal together.” The quill resumed as if nothing was wrong, nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Cassandra let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding and descended the steps for the first time in a long time without the intention of hurrying back. 

She took Trev’s advice and trained. First going through warmups and limbering up before starting on the training dummy. She lasted an hour. Eventually, even her arm was too heavy to lift. Her breath misted hot against the chill air, she dragged a towel over her face. But still the noise in her head hadn’t quieten down one bit. It felt like Trev had taken up residence inside and was arguing with her. 

Cassandra rose to her feet and made sure to put the training ground back to rights, she sighed patting the much abused training dummy, not quite sure what to do next. It was too early to return to their… _Is it still ours?_ Trev’s quarters, her mind amended, for their evening meal. She needed to visit the baths, but it’s currently filled with soldiers who were just done with their training. And she was in no mood for conversation. There was only one place she’ll be safe from conversation and chatter. 

The chapel. 

Cassandra pushed the door open and stepped inside. Instantly sweat prickled across her skin the chill air rushed to meet her. The hush in the room was near absolute once the door was shut. And the noise in her mind went silent. She wavered a little on her feet from the sudden void. 

The candles at the altar were lit, their stems long. Someone had been here not that long ago. It seemed even when the Inquisition was doing well, there were people who found a need for prayers and a heart-to-heart talk with the Maker. 

She took in the changes. Debris were long cleared, broken windows now had glass over them again. The steps were no longer uneven and chipped. And the statue of the Andraste stood with arms raised, head bowed, eyes looking down upon her. 

Trev had specifically asked for the chapel to be restored though it wasn’t really important in the grand scheme of things. One could pray anywhere, but there was something to be said about having a dedicated space where one could kneel and pay obeisance to the Maker. Cassandra knew this space had been rebuilt for her and the gesture was appreciated. 

The thought brought a pang back to her chest, tight and cramping. 

Using a lit candle to light a new one, she added to the cluster. Cassandra gave in to ritual. Sinking down on one knee, head bowed, hands clasped to her chest, she prayed. Words she had spoken many times before, in fear, in desperation and in hope. But never had she speak them when she felt such despair. The words were endless as she fell back into familiar patterns that used to bring her comfort. 

Somewhere in her chest, the ache remained. 

Cassandra couldn’t say how long she stayed there, but she slowly became aware of someone else next to her. A warmth that drove the chill of the chapel away. Words that echoed hers, repeated in a whisper. Her lips faltered and the prayer trailed off. Lifting her head, she found Leliana’s hooded head next to hers. 

“How long were you…”

“I wasn’t here long. Maybe five minutes or so,” Leliana replied without needing to hear the entire question. 

Cassandra sighed. Leliana was uncanny that way, seemingly reading one’s mind before one could think thoughts. 

“Do you have time?” Leliana stood, offering a hand to her, tugging Cassandra to her feet. A gesture Trev had done many times. She blinked and the image was gone. 

“I…”

“It’s not yet time for your evening meal. I’ll make sure you’ll have time for that.”

She couldn’t help the near growl of irritation. “I don’t know how you do this but have anyone told you how unnerving this is?”

Leliana just chuckled. 

“Since you know everything, the question is obviously rhetoric.”

“Yes it does appear to be the case,” Leliana said before her expression turned serious. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she couldn’t help snapping. “I’m unharmed. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

Leliana’s eyes narrowed. “You have been caring for Trev for weeks. Barely leaving her side for more than a few minutes at a time. You stopped training, you stopped checking in on Cullen, you have not joined the others for drinks at Herald’s Rest. And today, that changed.”

She stiffened as if slapped. Her jaw clenched so tight, she could barely speak through them. “I’m sorry I’ve neglected my duties. I will make sure that doesn’t happen again. I should see to them now.” Boots thumping against the stone floor harder than strictly needed, she turned towards the door. 

Leliana was lightning quick, her bard’s training still sharp and honed. Her hand flashed out barring Cassandra’s way. “Do not be foolish.” Her voice sharp, her gestures curt, she glared. “Nobody thinks you have neglected your duties. In fact, everyone is glad to pick up the slack. I’m merely pointing out you have not been caring for yourself.”

Cassandra stilled, anger melting away as quickly as it came. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” she took a deep breath and pressed a finger against her temple. “Not myself. Trev and I… we fought a week ago. And…” The words were hard and she didn’t want to admit it. Maybe what she had with Trev was over. “And I think it might be done.”

“It?”

“Trev and I.”

Leliana frowned and cocked her head, confused. “Why would you two be done? Because you think you’ve caused Trevelyan’s injury? Because you think she didn’t want you around her if she asked you to return to your routine?”

Cassandra didn’t speak, she turned her head away, finding the far wall way more interesting than it usually was. 

“I think you’ve misunderstood the gesture.” Still Cassandra didn’t speak. Leliana took it for the opening it was and went on. “Cassandra, Trevlyan is asking you to care for yourself. She knew how you’ve cared for her and she is doing what she can for you. Asking you to train, asking you to only meet her for the evening meal is giving you time apart, yes. But it also gives you time to recover. Caring for someone is tiring and you were hurt too during the expedition, did you allow yourself time to recover?”

Cassandra’s jaw twitched. 

“Your silence speaks for itself. Do not doubt Trevlyan’s care for you.”

“Why?” the question whispered, it hung heavy in the air. “Why would she still want me near her? When I… When I…” She exhaled, wet and shuddering as she locked her jaw, refusing to give in to the burning in her eyes.

Arms reached around her shoulders, pulling her close. It was all wrong. It was the wrong height, the wrong scent, the way the arms felt around her back was wrong too. Leliana was taller than Trev, her arms thinner than Trev’s. And she didn’t smelt like oak and sunshine. Cassandra’s heart was aching for the one person she was sure hated what she had brought upon her. 

And so, she remained stiff and unmoving, stoic, as her heart shattered. 

Leliana sighed. “Speak to Trev. She suffers as you do. And I don’t mean just in the way of her injuries. You both can be stronger together.”

Arms released her from the cage they made. Cassandra’s eyes flickered to meet Leliana’s. It was the wrong height, the wrong colour… 

“You know where to find me if you have need of consul, or even a listening ear.” Leliana didn’t wait for a response, she knew she wasn’t going to get one and left Cassandra alone. 

The chapel’s silence was no longer comforting but oppressive. Her eyes burnt but she didn’t cry. She wasn’t the one suffering, it was Trev. She didn’t deserve to cry. 

* * *

Trev rubbed her forehead. The fog from the seizure had eased, the headache retreated. She was feeling as well as she could these days. Maybe this was the new potion doing the trick. But she sighed, knowing better than to get her hopes up. There was only so many times she could go through this before she’d scream. 

Trev cried. That’s how her frustration came out if she didn’t have a physical activity to channel it. But she didn’t want to add to Cassandra’s burden. No amount of speaking would ease the guilt Cassandra held and she had ran out of words. All attempts to speak of it only resulted in stoic silence and those sad eyes. Trev couldn’t bear it and so she gave up. Just like how she was giving up on a cure. 

Noisy chirped, bumping his head against her legs. She reached down and scratched his chin. His purr, loud and strong, pleased by her offers. Sometimes, Trev wished if the world could be made better with a couple of pats and a good long chin scratch. But Thedas was a little more complicated. 

Turning back to her work, she realised all that was left was one more report and she was done. Either Josephine had been keeping paperwork away from her desk, sparing her or she had truly completed everything there was to do. She blinked. Rubbing at her eyes before trying to read the report again, but her attention kept wandering back to Cassandra. 

The pain in Cassandra’s eyes was a force near physical. Even now, Trev could see it in her mind’s eyes. But Trev knew despite what Cassandra thought, she needed time away. Truth be told, Trev needed it herself. Time and space to think and truly consider her options for the future. 

Thedas still needed their Inquisitor, the Anchor still resided in her. There were rifts to close, rulers and arls to court and a land to restore order to. If she could no longer ride out on expeditions, plans must be made. 

The thought pained her. A tightening of her chest, an odd lurch of her heart, but if she stopped to truly consider what that meant for her, she wouldn’t have the nerve to go through with it. Far better to rip the bandage off in one swift move than to pretend things were ever going to go back to how they used to be. Cassandra didn’t want to give up and that made it impossible to move on. She was stuck in this in-between space. Hopeless and hopeful, scared of the future and clinging onto the past. Every setback was more painful than the last. Every minute she remained a burden was a minute she hated herself. That made the guilt Cassandra held onto that much more agonising to see. 

Trev growled a wordless sound of frustration as she pulled her attention back to the work at hand. Over and over her eyes drifted across the parchment. But she read nothing, the letters were slowly turning blurry. She dashed her hand over her eyes angrily. But her eyes refused to obey, the tears prickled hotly. Her breath came shallow and shuddering when she heard the telltale sound of the door opening. 

Trev cleared her throat roughly to rid herself of the lump lodged there, rubbing her eyes roughly to erase all signs of crying. She turned in her seat as Noisy departed from her legs to greet the newcomer. There was no need to look. Noisy meowed loudly, a greeting reserved for Cassandra. 

“Hey,” Trev croaked, her voice not quite back to its usual timbre. She blinked, surprised to see the unusually red cheeks on Cassandra’s face, as if Cassandra had been… crying. The realisation was a punch to her chest, Trev bit her lip. 

“Hello,” Cassandra replied, juggling a tray of food on one hand and a pitcher of water in the other. 

It was warm and hearty fare. The cooks had been insistent on preparing more than she could eat and adjusting the meals based on what she did and did not finish. 

“Looks good,” she rose from her seat. That last piece of paperwork forgotten. Walking over, she reached out to help Cassandra with the pitcher of water. 

Cassandra shook her head. “You should rest…”

Trev stiffened. That word again. A single word to show how useless she had become, how much of a burden she was. She turned away and cleared the table they had been using for meals instead. 

Soon the dishes were all laid out, meats and soups, fresh vegetables and herbs from the garden. It all smelt heavenly, but Trev’s appetite fled when she held Cassandra’s gaze. The pain wasn’t just still here, it had intensified. She had hoped time away would help Cassandra regain her normalcy. But it wasn’t the case, it’s just another thing that had gone wrong between them. 

“Let’s eat,” Trev suggested, unable to find much enthusiasm to infuse her words but trying her best to get through this hateful awkwardness. 

The meal was consumed in silence. Nothing but the clinks of utensils against plates punctuated the air. Any attempt of conversation died in her throat, never making out of her mouth. They undressed in silence and slipped into the bed. Trev lay on her back, eyes trained to the ceiling while Cassandra had her back towards her. She shifted her head and looked at Cassandra’s back. Even at rest, it was stiff and rigid. Muscles pulled so tight, it must be giving her a headache. 

Trev reached out, a tentative hand stretching across the small space between them. It was so tiny a gap, but yet it was so insurmountable. 

A sudden fear gripped her chest. Cassandra would leave her, she’ll be tired of being tied to a burden such as herself and… She’ll be alone. The thought was unshakeable and all consuming. Her breath hitched. 

The muscles Trev was watching ratcheted tighter and the back started to turn. Cassandra’s eyes met hers for a split second, Trev’s vision dimmed as she felt a scream gargling at the back of her throat. 

* * *

Trev twisted, she shook and she screamed. All of it familiar, painfully so. Cassandra waited, she knew to do that now. Hands brushing back Trev’s hair when it got into her face, whispering, “I’m here, I’m here. It’s ok. Everything will be all right.”

Trev had told her sometimes she remembered flashes of what happened, sometimes there was nothing but a big hole in her memory. Both scared her, but her voice, her useless words helped. It was a rope Trev clung to. It held steady as her world tilted and shifted. 

And so Cassandra whispered prayers, through clenched teeth and tightened jaw, over and over again. Prayers that went nowhere, words that filled the still air and painful wait. 

Trev’s hands curled into claws, limbs stiffened into rods. She jerked and shook. Drool ran from her mouth, tinged slightly pink. It’s a sure sign that Trev had bitten her tongue. Then, the stench of urine wafted up. Out of all the things the seizures had brought on her, it was this one thing that galled Trev the most. The utter lack of control of something so basic, the one thing that turned her into a baby. 

Cassandra didn’t move. She held onto Trev as she rode through her seizure. Slowly, the rocking lessened, the gargles and noises ceased. Trev’s eyes were still glazed over, caught in the monster that made her suffer so.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she whispered. “You’re safe. It’s ok.”

She could always tell when Trev came back to herself. It wasn’t when the movement stopped, it wasn’t when her eyes started blinking but when her breathing changed. There was a hitch, a sharp intake of breath, before Trev returned. Running a thumb over Trev’s knuckles, forwards and backwards. She heard the sound she was waiting for. Trev was back. Looking down, she found tears standing in Trev’s eyes. She brushed them away. “Hey,” her voice whispered. 

Trev blinked, eyes darting about a bit as she took in her surroundings again. Her chest heaving, her mouth fell open and she managed a raspy, “Hello.”

Neither spoke. The silence lingered, peaceful at first like the calm after a storm. But it turned, it always did. Guilt like vinegar fouled the air. It tainted every word out of Trev’s lips. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, fighting the fog clouding her mind after an episode to speak. “I’ve… I’ve made a mess again.” She shifted, trying to raise and escape the loose hug Cassandra had her in. “I should clean myself up. I’ll come back with fresh linens. I’m sorry.”

Trev pushed against her arms and Cassandra let her go reluctantly. Despite having her arms held out to steady Trev, but Trev opted to brace herself against the bedside table. Trev wobbled unsteadily. A warning hovered upon her lips, but Trev’s exhausted gaze made the words turn to ashes in her mouth. 

“You don’t have to do anything. I’ll be back to clean it up.” Trev said, sour guilt lacing every word. “I’m sorry.”

Cassandra remained alone in the room, eyes frozen at the steps where Trev had disappeared down from. The emptiness of the room couldn’t match the void in her chest. A realisation shot through her chest like a bolt of lightning. 

Trev was pulling away. 

But she had done it first. She had withdrawn emotionally, unwilling to burden Trev with her guilt. Leaving Trev to wonder and believe all the wrong things. Leliana was right. They must talk. Cassandra took a deep breath. Maybe this clarity was granted by the Maker, maybe the conversation with Leliana had shaken something loose, either way she had a course of action. It might be painful and hard, but she would fight to keep what she had with Trev. 

Trev deserved that. _They_ deserved that.

* * *

Trev trudged back armed with fresh linens. Blue light of the night hid the shame that burnt her face. Every step back was made with dread. What if Cassandra had left? What would that mean? What if Cassandra had stayed and the silence weighed as heavily as before? Questions swirled in her head, she could barely examine one before another took its place. 

Her legs took her back to her quarters on their own accord. Her eyes weren’t seeing where she was going, locked in her thoughts as she was. She tripped. A pair of strong arms locked around her, halting what would have been a heavy fall. Trev didn’t need to look to know it was Cassandra. It was always Cassandra. 

“Are you all right?” 

Trev flushed, embarrassment tinging her cheeks red. She pushed away and found her feet again. “Sorry,” came her reflexive response again. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Cassandra kept her hands on her shoulders, holding her as if she was going to break, like she was a child who couldn’t even walk right. She took a deep breath, dipped her head, and shoved the thought away. Cassandra would never think her weak. _But what if…_

Cassandra bent over and looked at her from below. It surprised her. Not because Cassandra cared, but there was a clarity in them that wasn’t there before. But she was tired, there were linens to change and clean, she didn’t have the capacity to think about anything else. Instead, she forced herself to move. Cassandra followed, near enough to help, but far enough for her to maintain some semblance of autonomy. 

She reached to the top of the steps and realised the bed had been stripped and remade. The soiled linens were nowhere to be seen. Her jaw tightened. Anger flared hot in the pit of her gut. “Why?” the question blurted out before she could call it back. 

Cassandra stepped up to her back. A gentle hand pressed at the small of her back, guiding Trev into the room proper. The contact burnt her skin as ire rose in her chest. 

“Why did you clean the bed?” Trev demanded. Guilt had turned to anger. 

Wordlessly, Cassandra took the fresh linens from her arm and stored them away. She stood like a stiff and rigid stone pillar in the middle of the room, watching Cassandra taking over, caring for her even as she threw a tantrum like a child. But her anger burnt hotter at the thought.

“Are you not going to speak?” she demanded, her voice shaking with emotions too overwhelming to hold back. “Am I going to be a thing to be care for and kept safe? Have I truly become a monument of shame and burden?”

Cassandra stiffened, head snapping up as eyes bored into hers. “No.” 

That single word uttered with such force Trev took a step back. Her knees refused to lock and she crumpled to the floor. The weeks long bedrest had taken a toll on her strength and stamina. 

Cassandra rushed to her side. “Are you all right?” Hands wrapped around her side, helping her to her feet. 

“Stop, just stop.”

“No, Trev. I won’t.”

Trev expected anger, she expected a change of subject, not this gentleness meeting her fury head on. Cassandra helped her to the bed. She sat, bare feet planted on the stone floor, allowing the cold to burn her. 

Cassandra sank down to one knee. Hands taking hers, tender and firm, strong and weak at the same time. “Trev, I’m sorry. I’m sorry not being there for you.”

Trev flinched. “What are you talking about? You’ve been here every single day, every hour, every minute.”

“Physically, maybe so but I’ve refused to speak the hurt in my heart and that hurts you.”

Guilt weighed so heavy across Cassandra’s shoulders, bowing them. Guilt that wasn’t hers to carry, tugging her lips downwards. Trev stared at Cassandra, her chest hurting more than when she was sent flying by the dragon’s tail. She shook her head. “It is I who has hurt you. I am a burden. I am useless and can’t even…” Her voice broke.

“No!” Cassandra’s hands tightened painfully over hers as she surged up. “You are not and you will never be. What we have isn’t so fragile that it breaks upon the first contact of hardship. Were our positions reversed I’m sure you’d feel the same.”

“I do, I do.”

“So never feel ashamed, never feel guilty for needing help.”

Trev swallowed hard as the lump in her throat returned, doubled in size. Speaking her sour thoughts out into the open lifted a burden from her chest, and it seemed Cassandra had the same release. 

“I’ll try. But in turn I need you to stop feeling guilty for what happened. You did not caused this. You are not at fault.”

“But—” 

Cassandra’s hands loosened as if pulling away. An irrational fear flared in Trev’s chest and she cupped Cassandra’s face. “You did nothing wrong. You saved my life over and over again. Every time I… seize, I find you again when I wake. You keep me here, you keep me sane.”

Their eyes met. The Anchor flared bright green with the intensity of her words. But Cassandra didn’t speak, she didn’t move. She couldn’t read Cassandra’s wide eyed stare. 

_Why? Why can’t she accept that she is not to blame? Why can’t I convince her?_

Time froze over. Cassandra remained on her knees, Trev on the bed. Both locked in their minds, close but not touching as if a gulf was yawning between them. 

She was exhausted. And she surrendered to the cold filling her chest. Trev’s hands slipped from Cassandra’s face, too tired even cry. She took a shuddering breath and bowed her head, burying her face into her palms. All that filled her vision was the flare of the Anchor.

_She gives and gives and I can do nothing to stop her heart from bleeding out. What am I but a burden at the end?_

Maybe Cassandra was right all those months ago. They were just not meant to be if all she brought was grief to Cassandra. She was loose sand that Trev was never meant to hold on to. Sand that used to fit all her nooks and crannies were now slipping through her fingers. 

A slow and deliberate inhale rippled through the still air. A finger twitched, a tentative hand rose, reaching out across the small but fraught space between them. Trev flinched when cold fingers brushed across her cheek. The touch was lightning but before she could lift her eyes, she felt Cassandra’s weight pressed against her. Face against chest, arms wrapped themselves around her middle so tight, it was laced with desperation and fear. 

Something broke inside of Trev, Cassandra wasn’t pulling away, she was pulling herself together. Trev took a shuddering breath and returned the hug as tightly as her weak muscles allowed. Cassandra turned her face into Trev’s chest, shoulders heaving, tracks of tears turning her shirt wet. Trev pressed lips onto the top of Cassandra’s forehead, trying to will the hurt away from her lover. 

It took a long time, long enough for a cramp to ride up Trev’s back, but she stayed where she was. If this was what Cassandra needed to release the stress and tension she had been holding in, it was a small burden to bear. Eventually tears stopped, breathing evened out and Cassandra straightened with a wince, probably feeling as stiff as she did. Eyes red-rimmed lifted to meet hers. 

“Come,” Trev drew her towards the bed. 

Motions slow, Cassandra crawled under the covers, spent and exhausted. Trev sighed as they lay down together. Fingers intertwined, both of them loathed to break physical contact. Eyelids heavy but Trev was unwilling to close them, lest this was all a dream. She listened, the steady inhale and exhale from Cassandra, the firm grip in her hand, the warmth radiating next to her. There wasn’t much she could be grateful in recent weeks but this moment was that. 

Cassandra sighed, prompting Trev to shift and gaze at her. Her eyes shimmered with an unspoken request. But they didn’t need words. “Turn over,” Trev whispered. This night didn’t require speech spoken any louder. 

Cassandra complied, unlacing their fingers longer enough for both to lay on their sides, Cassandra’s back to Trev’s chest and their fingers found each other again as she wrapped her arms around Cassandra, spooning her. Noisy chirped as he curled up near their heads. It shouldn’t work, Trev was shorter, her arms weren’t as long as, but they fit. The still of the night reigned. There was no sound but the soft huff of two people breathing and a cat purring. 

“Trev.”

She grunted, close to sleep, giving in to exhaustion. 

“Don’t give up,” the words were prayers offered up into the air. 

Trev stiffened. “I’m not, I’m just…” It’s been weeks. Solas and the others had no solution, no treatment, no cure. There was nothing. 

“Not yet.”

“But…”

“Not yet,” Cassandra’s grip tightened, squeezing her fingers painfully tight. “I know you’re tired. I know you’re heartsick but… not yet. Solas is close, he told me so.”

Trev didn’t answer. Teeth biting her lower lip, her jaw tight as she mused. If Cassandra could let go of her guilt, she could be brave for her. 

“Ok.”

* * *

“Let me get this right,” Trev frowned. 

Solas, Dorian and Vivienne sat across from her in her room. The fire crackled and popped. Noisy lounged blithely in front of it. Cassandra stood at her back, hand resting on her shoulder, a warm and solid presence. 

“So you’re saying you can use the Anchor to help heal the damage?” 

Solas straightened and nodded. “The Anchor lives inside you. It’s an energy that’s bonded to you beyond merely physical. When you use the Anchor you can feel it beyond your palm, yes?”

Trev nodded. She knew well the pain that wrecked her arm at times, travelling up to her shoulder and chest sometimes. 

“So what dear Solas here is proposing is to guide the energy to your head,” Vivienne said. 

“ _Into_ her head,” Dorian corrected, frowning. Worry rode him, his beard and hair hadn’t had their usual grooming routine and he looked a little worse for wear. 

“Yes, into Trevelyan’s head,” Vivienne replied curtly, faint lines were the only signs of weariness on her face. 

“But the Anchor doesn’t heal,” Cassandra pointed out. “If it does, it wouldn’t be causing Trev pain.”

She nodded fervently, clenching and unclenching her left hand. The green snapped and sparked stronger than usual, matching her anxiety. 

“No it won’t,” Solas agreed. “But it will guide our magic, seeking out the damaged parts of her mind.”

“It will?” Trev asked. 

“In theory,” Dorian said, sighing. “I’ve not found any texts supporting it.”

“That’s because Trevelyan’s case is one of a kind. Who else has an Anchor embedded in their palm?” Vivienne pointed out. 

“Yes, please introduce them to me if you find them,” Trev chuckled, an unexpected laugh bubbling from her throat. “I want to start a performing troupe with them. We can be the Sparky Hands.”

Cassandra snorted, not a noise of disapproval, more of suppressed mirth. It’s a rare sound in past weeks and Trev cherished it. Bringing up her hand to lay on top of Cassandra’s, she squeezed it. 

Solas cleared his throat. “This is information I’ve gathered consulting the spirits but…”

“You won’t know until you’ve tried it,” Cassandra finished it for him, her grip tightening on Trev’s shoulder. 

Trev sighed, holding each of their gaze. “Dorian, what do you say?”

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “It’s dangerous, it’s unknown and nobody has done it before. There are too much risks.”

“Solas?”

The apostate lifted his head, chin jutting in her direction. “This is our best solution so far. The potions weren’t working, at least not in any manner we can discern. If there is a chance, we should try.”

Trev’s eyes shifted to the remaining mage in the room. “Vivienne?”

“It is dangerous,” she said and Dorian grunted, satisfied. “But it is also our last remaining thing to try.”

Trev rubbed her forehead, feeling her headache taking a turn for the worse at the news. It was a relief to have something they could try but for it to hold so much risk was a bitter pill to swallow. She exhaled a long breath, attempting to fight the rising tide of apprehension and anxiety. 

“When do you need an answer?”

“Soon,” Solas replied, his voice deeper and raspier than before. “Your episodes has been…”

“Worsening, I know,” she completed his sentence, she grimaced and rose to her feet. “Thank you, all of you for everything. I’ll… I’ll need sometime to think about this.”

Solas and Vivienne nodded at her and took their leave while Dorian lingered. Cassandra squeezed her shoulder and walked out with them, giving Dorian and her some privacy. 

He looked at her, brow furrowed, eyes tired. “Are you really considering this?”

Theirs was friendship forged under the strangest of circumstances, stranger than hers and Cassandra’s. Bonded through a trip into the future and back again, it was no surprise they shared an affinity after. 

She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“It’s too dangerous,” he insisted. “If I have time, I can make a trip back to Tevinter, to do more research. You southerns have the worst books, impossible to find the slightest bit of useful information. It’s appalling anyone can learn anything from them.” He paced as complaints tumbled from his lips. 

Trev chuckled. “Well we survived, didn’t we?”

Dorian stilled and smiled. “You southerns are just too hardy.”

“Technically I’m a Free Marcher.”

“Still, it’s south of Tevinter.”

“There’s plenty of south then.”

“That there is.”

He laughed and tugged her into a hug, his stubble rubbing against her side of her neck. “It’s ticklish,” she remarked. “You should shave.”

“I would have if I had the time,” he retorted. “I’ll give you three guesses why I don’t have the time.”

“Me.”

“Right on the first try,” he said as he let her go. “And I’ll accept no criticisms from you. Look at your undercut.”

Trev touched the side of her head, typically she kept both sides shaved close to the scalp, while she maintained the rest long. Usually it’s braided up while she’s in Skyhold, or tied into a bun if she’s out on an expedition. With everything going on, she couldn’t find the energy to even think about it. 

She shrugged. “I’ll shave mine if you’ll shave yours.”

“All of it?” Dorian gestured at his goatee.

“Yeah.”

“No!” he flinched back, hand on his chest. “Never! You don’t mess with this.” He pressed a hand against his facial hair. “Over my dead body, Trevelyan.”

She laughed, peels after peels of mirth, chasing away her headache. In the end, he joined in as well. “It’s good to see you laughing again.”

A hand pressed against her aching sides, “It’s good to laugh.” She straightened, the smile lingered on her face. “Thank you, truly.”

“Stop that,” Dorian snapped without fire. “I’m going to go now. I don’t need you getting all sappy on me. I got to keep you around otherwise how are they going to know what a magnificent person I am?”

Trev spluttered, eyes widened in mock surprise as he made his escape. 

* * *

And that’s how Cassandra found Trev when she returned. Trev sitting on the chaise in front of the fire, mirth shaking her shoulders. “Did you know what he told me?” 

“What?”

Cassandra listened as Trev recounted Dorian’s words. She smiled and nodded at the right parts. To see Trev this way, lighter and brighter just from the chat with Dorian, eased the tightness in her chest. She crossed the space and stepped to Trev’s back. 

Fingers found knots all along Trev’s neck and shoulders. She pressed and kneaded, working to untangle the tense muscles. Trev groaned and closed her eyes, leaning back against her. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” Trev’s eyes were still closed. “You’re the best, do you know that?”

“So I’ve heard.”

Trev hummed, apparently words were lost to her. For a while, that was how they existed. Fingers on skin, a contact that was more than physical. Cassandra could do this forever. 

But Trev broke the silence. “So…”

“So?”

“What Solas has proposed, do you have any thoughts about it?”

Her fingers faltered for a second but went on as if nothing was wrong, as if her heart didn’t just lurched sideways. Cassandra didn’t speak. Her lapse in speech was long enough that Trev closed her hands over hers and turned around. 

“You don’t want me to do it?” Trev asked, eyes seeking hers. 

“I…” Cassandra had went after Solas to ask for details, to understand what exactly he was proposing. He explained, she listened and still it was difficult to wrap her head around it. Suffice to say it was dangerous. 

Trev tugged at her hand, pulling her to sit. “Do you not want me to do this?” 

“No,” she frowned and shook her head. “I mean this should be your decision, not mine.”

“But the Inquisition—”

“Maker take the Inquisition,” she interjected. “This is about you. This affects you and you alone.”

“But it doesn’t. Even if I leave the Inquisition aside, give no fucks about the rifts and Corypheus,” Trev said, hands tightening over hers, painfully so, “it affects you too.”

Cassandra sighed. “Answer me this, do you want to do it? Knowing the risks.”

Trev let go of her hands. “I want to, I need to. We have tried everything, why not this?”

“Because it’s dangerous? There is so much that could go wrong.”

“But so is not doing anything, you heard Solas, my seizures are getting worse. I… I don’t want to die,” Trev said, voice breaking. 

“No, you won’t,” Cassandra snapped. “I won’t allow it.”

She laughed, it’s a sound that cut like broken glass. “Even you can’t stop this.” 

Trev’s hands fell to her thighs as she turned away. She stared into the flames in the fireplace. Licks of fire reflected in the amber of her eyes. It’s only midday and Cassandra could feel a chill running down her spine despite the fire. 

“I know,” she whispered eventually. 

“You told me to hold on,” Trev reminded. “You wanted me to not give up.”

“I did.”

“Can you be brave for me?” she asked, her voice small as she faced Cassandra. 

Her jaw tightened. This was exactly what she had asked of Trev. Now, she realised how big her request had been. Trev had agreed so easily. And suddenly it’s so difficult when the tables were turned. She took a shuddering breath and dug deep. If Trev could do it for her, why couldn’t she do the same? Trev deserved it.

Cassandra nodded, unable to dislodge her tongue from the roof of her mouth. 

“Then we’ll do it,” Trev whispered, half to herself, half to Cassandra. “I’ll do it.”

There was nothing she could do but to pull Trev into a hug. It was one she needed, to hold Trev close, to feel her solid weight, suddenly afraid it would all go away if she didn’t hold on. 

* * *

“Yes.”

Just a single word and it set the mages into action. They prepared. Potions were brew, lyrium acquired, information checked and rechecked. But that left Trev with nothing to do but wait. Pins and needles she sat on. Sleep turned elusive. 

But the waiting had bore fruit. They were ready. 

Trev suppressed a shiver as she braced against the railing at the balcony. The cold stone stung her bare soles, the crisp air burnt her nostrils and throat. The grey light bathed the Frostbacks gently. Wisps of breath wafted skywards with her every exhale. The chill was a sharp thing. Sometimes it took her back to that night at Haven but the sting reminded her she had survived that. And maybe she’ll survive this too.

“Trev,” Cassandra called as the door behind creaked opened. Her voice still heavy with weariness. She had spent hours caring for her after yet another episode last night. 

Trev grunted without turning. Hours, she spent lying on her back, dozing and waking and repeating. Eventually she couldn’t stand it and got up. Cassandra slept on, the lack of sleep taking a toll. 

The sky was still dark when she ventured out onto the balcony earlier. Now with Cassandra wrapping her arms around her chest, tugging a blanket over both of them, thin strands of sun rays pierced the gloom. A smile tugged at her lips as Cassandra rested a chin on her shoulder. 

“Morning.”

It was Cassandra’s turn to grunt. “You’re cold,” she complained. 

Trev chuckled and Cassandra tightened her grip, burrowing her face into her back. She sighed and took in the breathtaking vista. Majestic mountains rose before her, the valley floor a million miles beneath her feet and impossibly, here she stood with her lover. Luck, she had it apparently in spades. There were so many times she could have fallen, but she pulled through every single one. 

“Just a little bit more,” she whispered. 

“Huh?”

“Luck. I just need a little bit more of it.”

Cassandra sighed and pressed her lips on the side of her head. “We have it and the Maker’s blessing too. Come on, it’s too cold to stand out here. You don’t need a chill in addition to all your troubles.”

Trev allowed Cassandra to pull her back indoors. Stepping into the room, the heat enveloped her. Cassandra asked, “Do you think you can eat? I can get the kitchen to prepare a light breakfast before they start.”

Start. Start the treatment, the radical unheard of procedure dreamt up by sprits. Trev shuddered and shook her head. She ran her hand over her undercut. It’s now too long to be labelled so. Black hair stuck out, refusing to stay flat but remained stubbornly too short to be drawn up into a braid. “Can you trim my hair for me?”

Cassandra nodded. They had trimmed each other’s hair before, here at Skyhold or out on expedition. It’s a task Trev seldom allowed anyone to help her with. She planted herself on the chaise. With a tug, she loosened her hair from its rough braid. Black strands fell freely over her shoulders. Eyes staring at the dying embers of last night’s fire, it was slowly lulling her into a state of lethargy. 

Cassandra pressed a hand on her shoulder, a warning she was about to start. A comb tugged through her hair, a pull that stretched from the roots of her hair, across her scalp, slow and firm. Then, a quiet snip, snip, snip as hair fell to the floor. Cassandra worked in silence. And Trev enjoyed the way they could be in the same space and not find the need to fill them with words. 

“How’s the length?” she asked. 

Trev ran her fingers through her hair. A good two inches had been trimmed off. She nodded. “It’s good. I trust you.”

Cassandra chuckled. “That wasn’t what you told me the first time I did this.”

“Well you have gotten better.”

“Flatterer. Now tie your hair up, I’m going to do the undercut.”

With a couple of practised moves, the hair was bundled up in a rough bun. A warm hand pressed against her head, tilting it. Trev closed her eyes and felt a small blade scritched across her scalp. Guided by Cassandra’s steady hand, it went from one side of her head to the back and rounded to the other side. 

“Done,” Cassandra announced with a kiss on the freshly trimmed undercut. 

But Trev turned and met Cassandra’s lips with her own. It was chaste, it was a mere brush of lips against lips. But she could feel Cassandra’s smile against hers. 

“Thank you.”

Cassandra’s eyes were bright, shining even. There was a strange mix of emotions swimming in there, trepidation, anxiety and yet faith. Faith that everything would go well, faith that the Maker would provide, faith that she would conquer this. 

Trev didn’t share Cassandra’s belief in the Maker, she didn’t need it. She had Cassandra. Cassandra was her pillar, her support, her rock. 

* * *

Trev eyed the table that they brought up. It was large enough for her to lie on. She recognised it for what it was — a surgeon’s table. But there was no surgeon in sight, not today at any rate. Solas, Dorian and Vivienne were there instead. 

Solas was dressed in his usual simple tunic and pants. But she was surprised to see Dorian and Vivienne were dressed simply as well. She didn’t think either own anything remotely plain. 

Trev grinned as she eyed Dorian in particular. “Who did you borrow your clothes from?” Her eyes darting between Solas and him, the association she was making plain to him. 

Dorian glowered at her. “Just be grateful I like you Trevelyan.”

She laughed. It broke the tension filling the room. But Solas cleared his throat, “It’s best you change into some loose clothing. It’d help.”

Trev nodded. When she emerged dressed in a plain white loose linen shirt and knee length shorts, her hair loosen from its braid, she saw the fireplace was lit. Cassandra was shutting the doors to the balcony, keeping the chill of the Frostbacks out of the room. She smiled in appreciation, goosebumps were already rising across her arms. 

Lyrium potions stood like soldiers in formation, awaiting for the signal to march into battle. The large table was positioned right in front of the fireplace, to better keep them warm no doubt. 

“Please lay on the table,” Solas instructed. 

Despite how much she wanted to do this, her stomach fell through the floor at those words. Fear seized her heart and made it thumped against her chest, insisting she needed to flee. The Anchor flared bright and sharp, she clenched her left hand and breathed through it. Cassandra stepped up to her side and rubbed her back, a solid presence she could hold on to. 

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed to ease her dry throat. Head buzzing, she took an unsteady step towards the table as if death awaited her there. Cassandra hovered close, a gentle hand at the small of her back, ready to support and comfort. Trev straightened, spine stiffening, shoulders set.

She climbed on and laid down, hair fanning out behind her, shifting to find a comfortable position against the hard surface. There was none. Her gaze was directed at Solas who loomed over her. His face looked strangely elongated from this angle. resembling the murals of ancient elves found at the Dalish ruins. But she put it out of her mind. 

“No sleeping draught?” she asked. 

Solas shook his head. “I need to monitor your reaction as we proceed. I’ll be directing the Anchor’s power towards your head. There…” he grimaced, “will be discomfort. Dorian and Vivienne will be supporting me through this.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Discomfort you say.”

“Yes.”

“Pain you mean?”

Solas’ lips twisted further. “I wouldn’t normally suggest restraints but…” his frown deepened. “You should consider it.”

“That isn’t what you said,” Cassandra cut in, bristling with anger. 

Trev caught hold of Cassandra’s hand and pulled her to a stop. Cassandra’s eyes shone with anger, they only softened when they were directed at her. She shook her head. “If this is what it takes. So be it.”

“But—”

“After everything, what’s a little rope?”

Dorian cleared his throat. “We’re not quite that kinky,” he said, despite his attempt at humour, his voice was strained. 

A set of fabric restraints were produced and quickly secured to her wrists and ankles. Fear took up residence in her chest as Solas tested them. He nodded. they were tight but not so tight that they cut off circulation. Her jaw set as she fought to keep panic at bay Cassandra kept a tight grip on her right hand, the only thing keeping her from flying to pieces. Solas position himself on her left. The Anchor was crackling and snapping now, matching the anxiety squeezing her lungs. 

“Ready?” Solas asked, this question he directed at everyone. 

Nods all around and he looked at her. Trev swallowed and nodded as well. 

* * *

Cassandra watched. That was all she was capable of. Trev’s grip on her arm was vice like and crushing. Nails digging into her skin, pinching tendons and grinding her knuckles. But she set her jaw, refusing to pull away. 

Trev had gone white, her lips clamped shut but still sounds escaped. Muffled moans and cries spilled forth as she squeezed her eyes shut. The restraints were the only thing that kept her still enough for Solas to work. 

The Anchor wasn’t just flaring, it was burning. It had engulfed Trev’s hand. The green light in her palm was alternatingly so bright it was blinding white and so dark it was void black. 

Solas held his hands over her palm. At first nothing seemed to happen. Trev looked just mildly discomforted. Then it shifted. The Anchor would have roared if it had a voice. It didn’t, but Trev did. She cried out, a sound so gut-wrenching Cassandra had half a mind to stop this if Trev didn’t have her hand trapped in hers. That was hours ago. 

Now multiple bottles of lyrium later, the telltale green of the Anchor had travelled up Trev’s arm, past her elbow, to her shoulder and up her neck. The light seared through her skin like vines, curling and coiling. Every inch it travelled burnt Trev as she jerked and fought against it. 

Tears burnt in Cassandra’s eyes as she started praying. 

“Lyrium,” Dorian barked, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. 

Vivienne handed him a fresh bottle with the cork popped off. He drained it immediately. Solas was seated on a chair just off to the side, sweat collecting at his chin as he drank a lyrium potion of his own. 

“Solas,” Dorian called, his voice pitched high and strained. “Are you ready?”

Before Solas could answer, the white glow from Dorian’s hand intensified. Trev jerked in response. A cry torn out of her throat as the green vines reached the side of her head, spreading over her face. 

“Solas!” The cry was urgent now. 

Chill ran down Cassandra’s spine as Trev convulsed. This wasn’t one of Trev’s seizures. Those lasted no more than a minute or two, this went on and on. It was going to kill Trev. This _was_ killing her.

Cassandra’s lungs forgot how they worked. Fear wasn’t just something far away and intangible, fear was what’s happening before her eyes. “Trev, please hold on,” she begged. For a while it seemed her pleas fell on ears beyond listening but Trev’s eyes snapped opened, head tilting and seeking. 

Cassandra gasped. Gone was the liquid amber of Trev’s irises, instead they were green. Green like the Anchor, green like the Breach. 

“Is this supposed to happen?” she demanded. 

Instead of an answer Dorian grunted and stepped away, his face ashen and knees almost buckling. Vivienne caught him and lowered him to a nearby chair. Solas stepped into Dorian’s place and picked up where he had left off. This wasn’t a sprint but a relay race. Each mage picking up when it got too much for one. 

Solas gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, concentrating as he guided his hands over Trev’s face. With each pass of Solas’ hand the veins retreated a little more. The green was laced with white healing light, travelling paths forged by the Anchor’s energy. Cassandra hissed, eyes squeezed shut as the light flared. And just as suddenly it came, it disappeared, and Trev went limp. And the only sign that Trev still lived was the tight grip on her hand. And that’s what Cassandra held onto. 

Time seemed to have ceased to exist in that space. It was akin to torture to watch Trev struggled against such agony for so long, to watch the others laboured on and there was nothing she could do. Sweat beaded across Trev’s forehead, her skin hot and feverish. The loose shirt was stuck to her skin. Cassandra continued to pray. 

When the glow from Solas’ hands disappeared, Cassandra looked up as if surfacing from the bottom of a lake. She blinked. He sighed heavily, arms braced against the table. Dorian and Vivienne rose, ready to support Solas. All of them looked exhausted, drained in a way beyond the physical. 

Cassandra ignored them and brushed Trev’s hair from her forehead. “Trev,” she called. 

But Trev remained limp, even the grip on her hand had loosened. But her chest rose and dipped at equal intervals. The vines that ran up Trev’s arm and across her face had darkened to a deep angry red. 

“Is it done?”

Solas straightened and nodded.

“Did it work?”

“Time will tell. For now Trevelyan must sleep, her body has just gone through something no human was meant to suffer. It may take days for her to wake but she will wake. The marks should fade by then. Then, we watch.”

Cassandra nodded, squaring her shoulders. It was a task she could complete and she clung to it. She’d watch over Trev.

The rest departed to rest. She didn’t need help getting Trev into the bed, she didn’t need help to get Trev changed from her damp clothes into fresh ones. Noisy deigned to emerge from his hiding place and joined Trev in bed, curling up by her side. Cassandra gave him a good under the chin scratch and he purred his delight. As she pulled the covers over Trev’s slumping form, she pressed her lips on her forehead. 

“Wake up soon, my love. Come back to me.”

* * *

It started with a twitch. A minute move of Trev’s finger, then the motion grew got stronger. But nobody saw it. Fingers curling and body shifting, the motion hidden underneath the blanket keeping her warm. But as Trev’s breath hitched, a soft gasp slipped past her lips, Noisy chirped a greeting. 

Cassandra stood from her seat at the desk and frowned. The white cat Trev had adopted was bumping his head against Trev’s face. It was the same greeting he’d use every morning. “Noisy, don’t disturb your mistress,” she scolded. “She’s resting.”

It had been a week. There was no real change in Trev other than the darkened tendrils marking the Anchor’s path up her arm and across face had all but disappeared. 

Noisy ignored her as he always did when it suited him. He kept up with his bumping. Cassandra sighed and walked over to the bed, in part to get Noisy to stop, in part to check on Trev. As she reached out to pick him up, a raspy voice whispered, “Leave him alone.”

She stiffened and looked at her lover. “Trev?”

A smile stretched across Trev’s face but she kept her eyes closed. “Yes?”

“Maker, you’re awake!” Cassandra exclaimed, turning instantly to fetch Solas. But even with her eyes closed, Trev caught her wrist unerringly. 

“Stay,” she said, voice rough from disuse. “Don’t go.”

Despite being asleep for a week, not having much to eat other than broth Cassandra coaxed down her throat, there was strength in Trev’s grip. Trev turned her face into the pillow with a groan, tugging Cassandra along with motion. She was forced to follow. As much as she wanted to get Solas, she relished seeing Trev awake. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, sinking into the bed. 

Trev turned towards her. She sighed, resting her forehead against Cassandra’s thigh. “Sleepy, tired,” she complained in muttered words. 

“How much do you remember?” 

Trev shuddered and pressed her face closer. It was answer enough. She rubbed a hand against Trev’s back and Trev sighed in contentment. “I’ll be glad that it’s done. How long was I out? I gather it isn’t just one day or two.” 

Hot breath pressed against Cassandra’s leg as Trev spoke. And it made her chest light and the smile on her face broadened. “A week.”

Trev stiffened but relaxed again. She sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at her face. “Did it work?”

“We won’t really know until…”

“Until I seize again?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” the curse exhaled as Trev sat up. Head bowed, her hair fell over her face, hiding the frustration away. 

Cassandra clung to Trev’s left hand. The green of the Anchor calm and quiet now. “Maker willing, you’re cured.”

“I hope so,” she muttered. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and said, “I guess I should get up and get something to eat, and get a bath.”

Then, their eyes met. Cassandra stiffened. A gasp of surprise made it past her lips despite her best intentions. 

Trev frowned. “What is it? Is there something on my face? Drool? Have I been drooling and it’s all dried on my face?” Fingers rubbed over her face as she sought for something wrong. 

“No,” Cassandra reached out to cup Trev’s face. Her eyes traced the features of Trev’s face. She brushed her finger over Trev’s left eye as if she could erased the wrong she saw. Trev frowned, confused but willing to humour her. 

“What is it?” 

With her heart sinking to her guts, Cassandra said, “Your left eye, do you feel anything odd about it?”

* * *

Trev stared at the mirror and frowned. Her mismatched eyes stared back. With a grunt she rubbed her hand over the left one, as if it could rid her usually amber brown eye of the green bleeding into it. A legacy left by the Anchor’s path across her body. She sighed, the strange mix of brown and green of her left eye remained. 

“Fine, be that way,” she muttered to her reflection. 

But if this was the cost of ridding herself of seizures, she’ll take it. It had been a month since. There hadn’t been a single episode. As soon as Cassandra wasn’t looking, she took to training again, rebuilding muscles and strength she had lost. 

Everyone welcomed her back. Apologies were made for her short temper and withdrawal while she was ill and all of them had waved it away. Trev was glad her time licking her own wounds hadn’t break the friendships she had come to treasure. Solas, Dorian and Vivienne were thanked and gifts were purchased for each of them. They, like the others, accepted the thanks but told her the gifts weren’t needed. Though she noted Dorian had happily accepted his gift of Orlesian hair oil. 

Trev pulled on her breastplate and was strapping them tight against her torso when a hand brushed against the back of her neck, left unprotected when her hair is pulled into a combat braid. She flinched away. “You really got to stop that.”

Cassandra chuckled. “Not when you react this way every single time,” she said, breath ghosting against her skin. “Here let me help you with the straps.”

“I can do it myself.”

“I know, but I want to help, will you let me?”

Trev half turned to meet Cassandra’s eyes. “Yes.”

They worked quietly and efficiently. Pulling on the breastplate and gauntlets, tightening straps and buckling Trev’s blade to her hip. She did the same for Cassandra. When they were done, Cassandra stopped before Trev, her eyes boring into hers. “You know you’re still beautiful.”

Trev ducked her head and blushed. Even now, she was still unused to praise for her physical looks. Short and solidly built, she was never a beauty in the traditional Free Marcher sense. But she was never really teased over it, after all who would if the person could wield a blade like she could. But hearing it from her lover’s lips, it was both a pleasure and embarrassing at the same time. 

“You really are, Trev.” 

Cassandra lifted her face with a finger on her chin. One hand tracing the line of her jaw, reaching up towards her left eye. Cassandra lowered her lips and kissed her left eyelid. 

“And you always will be, weird eye and all.”

Trev snorted and laughed, burying her face against Cassandra’s chest only to be halted when their breastplates clanked together. “Fucking armour,” she muttered. 

“Come on, the others are waiting,” Cassandra said, grabbing her hand and tugging her along. “You don’t want to be late heading out for a new expedition do you?”

“Wouldn’t want to be late, no. That’ll be bad.” 

And Trev mounted up and led the party out of Skyhold, heading towards a new adventure with Cassandra riding by her side. They were stronger together and with the experience of the past couple of months behind them, Trev was sure there was nobody else she wanted by her side more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcomed!

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcomed!


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